Four Small Boys.

It was more like Devastation. It dogged him from the moment he woke, right through his day. It was as though a meetinghouse full of his ancestors had called overnight, and together they had voyaged a few hundred years into the future, there to visit with his descendants. There to see the impact of the actions and inaction of his generation upon the world. And a future sadness dressed him, sleeved him, and zipped him up like a lead jumpsuit that could not be sloughed, as the liquid grief of his great grandparents and his great grandchildren found their vent in him.

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